The Pause

A space for verse, reflection and lingering

Welcome to the new year and the new semester! I hope you’ll continue to partake in reading poetry with me this year. The first poem is a collection of things Naomi’s son said to her over his toddler years. If you’re reading this poem alone, I hope it makes you smile wide. I hope you’ll read it out loud to the person next to you and share a giggle together.

If you write (or aspire to write) poetry, please send them my way. I’d love the chance to share your poems with our community. Don’t hesitate over quality or perception. As you’ll read further, “If it’s to be laugher, then laughter it will be. If it’s tears, then tears it will be. Do what you must do. Whatever happens, we’ll see how it goes.”

One Boy Told Me

By Naomi Shihab Nye

Music lives inside my legs.

It’s coming out when I talk.

I’m going to send my valentines

to people you don’t even know.

Oatmeal cookies make my throat gallop.

Grown-ups keep their feet on the ground

when they swing. I hate that.

Look at those 2 o’s with a smash in the middle –

that spells goodbye.

Don’t ever say ‘purpose’ again,

let’s throw the word out.

Don’t talk big to me.

I’m carrying my box of faces.

if I want to change faces I will.

Yesterday faded

but tomorrow’s in BOLDFACE.

When I grow up my old names

will live in the house

where we live now.

I’ll come and visit them.

Only one of my eyes is tired.

The other eye and my body aren’t.

Is it true all metal was liquid first?

does that mean if we bought our car earlier

they could have served it

in a cup?

There’s a stopper in my arm

that’s not going to let me grow any bigger.

I’ll be like this always, small.

And I will be deep water too.

Wait. Just wait. How deep is the river?

Would it cover the tallest man with his hands in the air?

Your head is a souvenir.

When you were in New York I could see you

in real life walking in my mind.

I’ll invite a bee to live in your shoe.

What if you found your shoe

full of honey?

What if the clock said 6:92

instead of 6:30? Would you be scared?

My tongue is the car wash

for the spoon.

Can noodles swim?

My toes are dictionaries.

Do you need any words?

From now on I’ll only drink white milk

on January 26.

What does minus mean?

I never want to minus you.

Just think – no one has ever seen

inside this peanut before!

It is hard being a person.

I do and don’t love you –

isn’t that happiness?

To the New Year

By W.S. Merwin

With what stillness at last

you appear in the valley

your first sunlight reaching down

to touch the tips of a few

high leaves that do not stir

as though they had not noticed

and did not know you at all

then the voice of a dove calls

from far away in itself

to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you

here and now whether or not

anyone hears it this is

where we have come with our age

our knowledge such as it is

and our hopes such as they are

invisible before us

untouched and still possible

Do what you must do

By Faiz Ahmed Faiz; Translated by Baran Farooqi

Now why talk of the day

When the heart will be shattered

And all kinds of sorrow will be no more

Whatever was gained would be lost

And we’ll get what we never could get?

This day is the very first day -

The first day of love

The day we always longed for

And whose advent we always dreaded

Numerous are the times when this day came

We were settled a hundred times, plundered a hundred times

Sacked, and compensated a hundred times

Why worry now about the day

When the heart will be shattered

And all kinds of sorrow will be no more?

Pass by anxious thoughts and fears

Que sera sera –

If it’s to be laugher, then laughter it will be

If it’s tears, then tears it will be

Do what you must do

Whatever happens, we’ll see how it goes

Unnati Bose (MBA ’26) is originally from India but has called many places home. She graduated from Shri Ram College of Commerce with a degree in Economics. She has worked in social impact consulting, global health, and pharma. In her free time, she can be found asking questions of love, community, and popular culture on her substack, Uno’s Thought Scramble.